Page 65 of Ruthless Sinner

He nods, takes out his phone, then calls Dante.

While I hear the phone ringing, I think of what I’m going to say if I see him.

Given the fact that I know he was watching me at least twice, there’s plenty to say. But I’m not here for that.

Dante answers the phone, and I hear the smooth baritone of his voice.

The bouncer glances back at me, and when he starts talking in Russian, I suspect my prior assumptions were correct.

I try to figure out what they're saying, but it's near impossible if you don't know the language.

Seconds later, the call ends, and my heart is already sinking past my feet. But hope sparks in my heart when the bouncer nods and says, “Come. I'll take you up to see him.”

ChapterNineteen

Serenity

I follow the bouncer up the stairs. This is a different route to the one I took the other night to get to the lounge, so I know we’re going somewhere different.

My heart pounds in my chest, fueled by a deadly cocktail of panic mixed with anticipation. It grows the closer we get to wherever he’s taking me.

I’m barely conscious of my steps, but I know I’m walking from the echoes of my footsteps on the concrete stairs.

We reach the second floor, and I see an opened door ahead at the end of the hallway.

The bouncer steps to the side and points toward the door.

“That’s Dante’s office,” he explains.

“Thank you.”

He gives me a clipped nod and leaves.

While he takes the stairs back down, I continue toward the office with my heart now beating in my throat, drumming against the lump blocking my airway.

When I reach the door, my gaze lands on Dante straight away.

He’s standing behind a large black glossy desk looking as handsome as ever, his piercing blue eyes glued to me, his commanding presence filling the room.

“Come in and close the door.” He speaks in a low even tone I can’t quite gauge. It’s fair to say, though, that from his hard expression, he doesn’t look happy to see me. At the same time, there’s a glint in his eyes which gives me hope.

I walk in and close the door as instructed, then take in the huge office space decorated with dark masculine colors. There’s another desk like his on the other side of the room, which I’m guessing is for his friend he shares the club with. There’s also a sofa and bar area that look as exquisite as the lounge.

I return my gaze to him, and our eyes lock in a seal so tight I feel I’ll never ever be able to look away from him.

I want to speak. That is what I came here to do—and to see him.

But no words form in my mind. He stares back at me, the faraway look in his eyes prolonging the moment.

I was never sure how this would play out, but here I am, willing myself to try. I just have to move past square one.

Seconds seem to pass by like several lifetimes before he straightens and his lips part.

“Why are you here, Serenity?”

I try to think past the fog surrounding my mind, knowing this is the one shot I have. Although I don’t know what the end goal is.

Regardless, this feels like one of those pivotal moments in life where what you say next will shape everything that will happen after. For better or for worse.